


Memo

by Mako_Octo



Series: Dream Job [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Dream Job, M/M, daniel birch - Freeform, dominant / submissive relationship, michael dennis - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2020-09-28 18:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20430524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mako_Octo/pseuds/Mako_Octo
Summary: Daniel Birch writes a memo that must go out immediately. Michael takes on the challenge.





	Memo

It felt like any other day at the office. Mr. B was at his desk, typing away at his computer. I glanced at the clock, he had a meeting with the board in an hour. He was likely revising his notes. I was responding to emails from varying potential partners, trying to schedule meetings through their insistent messages. I reached above me and stretched. So many people just assumed that they could meet with Mr. B at the drop of a hat. It made my job very frustrating.

“Michael!” Mr. B called from his desk, “I just sent a document to the printer. Go fetch them for me.” I pushed up from my desk to head out to our printing room. Over my shoulder I hear, “There should be twenty copies. Be quick!” My lumber turned to a jog as I hastily maneuvered through my faceless coworkers in the hall.

The printer was just finishing when I came into the room. Without reading the message stamped across the paper, I grabbed the stack and quickly made my way back. 

When I got back to Mr. B’s office, he was standing over my desk with a small box. He turned when I entered.

“Now, I need you to stuff these envelopes with those. Come on, I need these out before my meeting!” He placed the box on my desk, ushering me over. I sat down right away, folding the papers in thirds to fit them in the envelopes, still rushing too much to take the time to read what was on the paper. As I stuffed the last one, Mr. B approached my desk again.

I expected to look up to see him smiling in approval, but instead he just looked at me impatiently. I gathered the envelopes together and held them out to him, his expression didn’t change. 

“I need  _ you  _ to drop one of these off to every department.” He glanced down at this wrist, examining his watch strapped around it. “You have less than half an hour, get going.” He commanded. I ran out of the room, nearly tripping over my own feet as I did. 

Clutching the papers tightly, I ran down the hallways to the closest board members’ offices. There were a couple on this floor, about ten in the floors below, and the other eight were in the upper floors, I recited in my mind. Gritting my teeth, I rushed to drop off the first of the letters.

_________________________________________________________________________

Sweat stuck my shirt to my chest and sides. My hair curled against my face and the ends were wet with moisture. My chest clenched as I raced back to Mr. B’s office. I had to help him set up for his meeting that started in five minutes. Why he had me literally run an errand for him so close to the appointed time, I had no idea. 

Jogging inside the office, I stared at Mr. B, casually sitting at his desk. Panting erratically, I shuffled across the room until I was at his door. Feeling the remainder of my energy deplete, I rested heavily on the frame. Mr. B must have noticed, but he didn’t look up.

“Finished handing those out?” He asked, paying more attention to his computer screen than to myself. I pressed my fist against my chest, trying to steady my uneasy breath.

“Y-y-yes, sir.” He glanced up to me and smiled.

“Good.” He looked up at the clock on his wall, probably about to blame me for making him late to his own meeting. “We now have another couple of hours before the meeting. Let’s see if we can get this phone working again.” With that, he pulled out a cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

“Hello? Yes, James, hi. This is Daniel Birch. How are you? Yes, yes. I’m fine. James, can you make your way up to my office in the next hour or so? My office phone is no longer making outgoing calls. Great, thank you.” Upon pressing the end call, he placed down the phone and smiled up at me again. My eyes narrowed at him as I pieced everything together.

“Your office phone is down?” I asked, not giving him a chance to reply, “And I’m assuming that the letters you just had me,  _ hand deliver _ , by the way, were-”

“Memos that the meeting was going to be postponed while I got this fixed. Can’t focus on a proposal if my mind is elsewhere, now can I?” He interrupted, clearly getting satisfaction from explaining. My eyes roamed to his computer, clearly operational, clearly undervalued. 

“Is your email not working either, sir?” I questioned, standing upfront in the doorway. Mr. B lazily glanced at his screen, a half smile emerging across his chiseled chin. It was moments like this that made me hate how attractive I found him. It made me weak.

“Oh, you’re right. I guess I could have sent out a mass email.” He chuckled softly, a sweet sound, with a sour aftertaste. “But then you wouldn’t have had the chance to get your blood pumping. Sitting all day is unhealthy for you.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his desk, his half smile still pulling me in. 

His biceps pressed against the inside of his sleeves, as if he purposely had his shirts tailored a size smaller than he needed. I followed them to his neck, so thick that shamefully, in my darkest fantasies, I imagined biting into it. Signing I took a step back. There wasn’t a point in trying to argue with him. His physical presence faltered my words, and his perception faltered my logic. I smiled and bowed my head.

“Thank you for that sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?” For a second, it looked like his smile grew, before returning to his distinctive half smile, always displaying to others his confidence.

“No, Michael. Thank you.” Bowing his head slightly, Mr. B turned back to his computer and resumed typing. I turned back to my desk, feeling like I had a hernia. 

Before I reached my chair, James, the IT guy rushed into the room, hurriedly making his way to Mr. B’s part of the office. Slumping into my seat, I starting to laugh to myself. Everyone was in service to Mr. B. I leaned over to watch as James fumbled over his words as he spoke with him. I chuckled more. Seems I wasn’t the only one who got tongue-tied around him. 

Then a thought silenced me, and pushed me back into my chair. But I was the only one who went out of my way to put myself directly in his service. So what did that make me? I decided to push that thought away and began to finish the emails. If I kept ignoring them, they would get out of control.


End file.
